Discovering My Cheer Self

My cheer career started the summer before my freshman year of high school, to the great shock of my friends and family members. Considering that this decision came after 14 years of barely raising my voice and retreating to isolated, indoorsy activities, I can understand their confusion. My wallflower ways didn’t seem to mesh with the vibrant nature and team spirit integral to cheer. Ninth grade felt like the right time to break out of that soft-spoken persona, though. High school meant a fresh start, and I was determined to have as many friends and go to as many fun events as possible to make up for junior high. I was on my way to meeting new people and entering a whole new chapter of my life. The first big step, I decided, was to join an athletic team; practice would start over the summer, and by the first day of school, I would have friends in every grade. Choosing cheerleading wasn’t hard for me. The sport was all about teamwork, support, and positivity” “the kind of girl I couldn’t wait to become. Just before junior high graduation, I attended tryouts at my future high school. The squad was quite small at the time; only a dozen or so girls were there, including the returning members. We learned a few cheers and how to do a toe-touch, and everyone made the team that day. Being a member of that squad made my summer so much brighter. Practices in the park were split evenly between actual work” “warming up, learning cheers, mastering jumps and motions” “and sitting in a circle in the grass talking and laughing. The upperclassmen told us about their favorite teachers and how much fun the pep rallies would be, and we freshmen got to know one another, the girls who’d be by our sides for the next four years. Warm-up laps around the park were light jogs with new friends, swapping stories about how so over junior high we were and how awesome it was going to be being high school girls on the varsity squad. “We get the best stuff,” one of the captains told us with a grin. When the hoodies embroidered with our names, graduation years, and Warrior mascot arrived a few weeks later, I couldn’t agree more; it was the best clothing I’d ever owned. Teammate, it screamed as I pulled it over my head. Member of the Cheer Squad. Very Involved. Lots of School Spirit. Making friends was only part of why I wanted to cheer, though. It was also about pushing myself to do what I never thought I could before. Learning how to cheer on its own was a fun leap out of my comfort zone. I have never been a loud person, but the enthusiasm of my teammates” “the ones who were older, the ones with more squad experience” “drew my cheer voice out. “Pull it from your stomach,” another captain said, “not your throat. Don’t just yell. You really want to project.” I learned how to raise my voice. I learned how to sit into my jumps, keep my arms and legs straight, and, at camp a few months later, how to be part of a stunt team lifting a girl into the air. Eventually I learned some tumbling. I learned how to apply wild, sparkly eyeshadow before a game and how to clean my sneakers before a competition. I learned how to make friends in a startlingly easy way: just by jumping into a conversation with people I liked. For the next four years, I was a dedicated member of the squad. Whether we were at games or competitions, I loved being part of that team. Cheer really connected me to my school and peers; I am still beyond proud to be a Warrior. When people summarize high school, there are some common milestones: getting your driver’s license, going to prom, having that one teacher who got what you were about and taught you what you really wanted to know. For me, though, some of my fondest memories from those four years are of our turning up the radio and dancing on the sidelines during a rainy game, vegging out in the gym and writing our competition cheer line by line, and walking a few blocks down from the school after practice to split a couple of pizzas. Little inside jokes and moments that might not mean anything to anyone else are everything cheering meant to me. Cheer didn’t reinvent me the way my 14-year-old self thought it would. I’m still a quieter person, still shy meeting new people, still a little unsure” “but mostly excited” “about what the future holds. Almost ten years after I first walked through those gymnasium doors, though, I recognize the positive influence cheering has had on me, and the changes I accomplished in myself. Being part of that squad taught me the difference between just yelling and projecting my voice. I have the capacity to be bold, to be competitive, and to lead. I have a small circle of close friends who are gifts in my life. I look amazing in wild, sparkly eyeshadow. If that isn’t something to cheer about, I don’t know what is.